To Dare or Not to Dare
by Multiplicity
Summary: No harm ever comes out of a dare. Right? DustinHunter


**Disclaimer**:I do not own Ninja Storm or its characters. I can always dream, right?

**Author's note**: This is just a little something I whipped up a while back. A nice, fun story. Enjoy!

It seemed like an eternity had passed.

An eternity since I first sprawled out on the bathroom floor; my face plastered against the cold tile, curled into a ball as small as my body would allow. If this is what Hell was, I didn't want to go back. But I did know one thing; the toilet and I had become very friendly.

And there he was just standing there, staring at me.

That look in his eyes combined with the crossing of the arms over his chest. It was cute, in that I-told-you-so kind of way. It was annoying but cute. He didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. All he did was stare. Just as he kept quiet, I did the same. I was in too much pain to do anything, let alone speak three words. Not a peep, save for the occasional groan that came from yours truly. It was a chore to even attempt to move.

"Dustin."

He called my name, but I didn't answer. I knew he was looking; I could feel his eyes on me. Even as my own eyes burned their gaze into the porcelain slab of a toilet, I could feel his eyes on me. As much as I didn't want him there (perhaps that was the upset stomach talking), he was there. I wanted _him _there; it let me know that he cared.

"It's all Shane's fault," I blurted out of nowhere. My stomach rumbled once I spoke, forcing me to groan. "He knows I never turn down a dare." I knew Hunter would get on me somehow in regards to my careless behavior that night. But it was no reason to get so worked up. No harm ever came out of a little old dare. Or did it?

In the time I've known Hunter, he hadn't been much of a get-up-and-do type of person. He was the fly-on-the-wall type, watching events transpire from afar, stepping in only when he needed to. Now I'm questioning why he didn't step in when I started to pig out.

"Shane didn't force you to eat ten cups of ice cream, Dustin," he remarked, still standing in the door. If that were me, I'd be having serious leg cramps. How he managed to have the patience to stand there was beyond me.

Without another word, he strolled over and planted himself on the seat of the toilet, his feet just inches away from my face. I looked up, but only saw the length of his pants leg. I didn't see his hands, which meant they were still crossed. I hate when he does that.

"Don't forget the double chocolate waffle cone. You can't forget that." My hand waved aimlessly in the air, as if my victory over Shane was going to justify my sore stomach. My hand was suddenly in the safety of his warm hands. A single finger moved over every nook and cranny of my hand, one of his many habits I've grown accustomed to. He did this all while remaining silent. Another little quirk I loved about him.

He sighed. "And the double chocolate cone," he repeated. Oh, the joys of silence. If it had been any other person, I'd bash my brains in, or theirs for that matter. Hunter was a different case altogether. Most times he would sit and stare, thinking about who knows what. He had every right to; he had a lot on his plate. It was a lot more than what I could handle. "I'm getting you out of here."

"No," I pouted. "I want to stay here." I knew trying to argue was pointless. Once Hunter set his mind on something, he went through with it. Next thing I knew, I was hoisted from the floor and into his embrace, his arms fitting perfectly underneath my legs, holding my head steady as one would a newborn. "I have a tummyache. You shouldn't be carrying me." It was a sweet gesture, one I hadn't been privy to since my younger days. I went along with it, resting my head gently against his chest. I wasn't winning this battle.

Into the living room we went, his eyes focused on the couch. In mere seconds, I was placed on the soft comfort that was the couch, head propped up on the pillow. I wiggled a bit, taking in the welcoming softness. My eyes darted wildly as he left the room. "Where are you going?" I asked.

He peeked from the opening of the doorway. "To get you something for your stomach." He disappeared once more, fumbling sounds coming from the medicine cabinet. After minute or so, he returned with a bottle of pink liquid in his hand. I wanted to cry..

"Ugh, not the Pepto, dude." I threw my hands up in front of my face, as if to block an oncoming blow. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Anything that's good for you never is pleasant," he replied, pulling off the plastic cup and filling it with the grainy fluid. "If you want to feel better, take it." He thrust the cup at me, relying on me to take it myself.

I crossed my arms and shook my head. "No, I'm not taking it. You can't make me." I looked like a kid, no doubt, refusing to take the medicine. Could you blame me? It was Pepto, for crying out loud!

"Fine," he stated, setting the cup on the table. "You don't want me to become off limits, do you?" He crosses his arms _again_ (damn him!), his eyes taking on a serious tone. However, I saw a twinkle of his playful nature.

"You wouldn't," I exclaimed. He wouldn't, would he?

He moved to leave from the couch, but I quickly reached for the medicine, aiming it towards my mouth. "Okay, okay. You don't have to be so mean." I looked to Hunter, then to the cup. Taking a gulp, I held my nose and prayed to the heavens above. I flinched, the bitter liquid flowing down my throat. It took every bit of willpower to keep from throwing it back up. I flung the cup on the table. "There. Happy now?"

He smiled that charming grin of his. "Knowing that you'll be better soon? Of course." His hand ran through my hair, making it even more of a mess than it already was. "And I was lying about me being off limits."

I was shocked. He'd tricked me. Reaching behind me, I grabbed the pillow and smacked it across his head. He had it coming. It was his turn to throw up his hands. "What I'd do?"

"Meanie," I said as another pillow went across his head. That'll teach him to trick me.


End file.
